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The day after the first Jap. POW troopship had departed from Colombo Harbour, UK bound, an, RAF Sergeant, whom, from his Belsen- build, and brand new uniform, we knew ,was a POW, stepped aboard Pinnace 90 ,as we came to the jetty, and asked if he might come aboard.

Very surprised, but willing to assist any Jap. POW, we said ‘Yes’, and he came aboard, and without saying much he quietly helped, although he obviously, was not a seaman

Where he lived, or slept at night we knew not, but each morning he would come aboard, and quietly help, and we did not probe concerning why

As he became more familiar, he loosened up, and quietly, bit by bit, started talking of his ordeal, little by little, usually over the only thing we had on board, a mug of tea

He spoke of his treatment by the Japanese, of starvation, frequent beatings and torture, whilst working on the Burma Railway, of watching so many his friends dying, unable to help, of almost losing the will to survive, but always the thought of his wife, whom he had married in London, just a few months, prior to being posted by the RAF, to Singapore, carried him, always, through the, black times, and the deepest depths of despair.

During his three and a half years as a prisoner, not once had he received any mail .

At war’s end, returning to Singapore, he received the one letter, which from its writing, thrilled, he recognised as his wife’s, But his world collapsed, when he read that she had had a child by an American serviceman, and that she never wished to see him ever, again.

He quietly told us that his world had collapsed, after all that he had been through, and that he could not face going home. As time went on, he spoke more and more of the brutality of the Japanese, much, best, untold.

We became good friends.

As we came to the jetty one day, there waiting, were two S P’s, RAF Military Policemen, who came aboard ,put him in handcuffs, and took him ashore, whilst we watched helpless to intervene.

When the next Jap POW troopship moored in Colombo Harbour, being RAF, we had to take the RAF Military Police, and our friend, still in handcuffs, out to the troopship, and wait to bring back the, Military Police, only.

As that troopship left Colombo, we in, Pinnace 90, followed the ship for many miles out to sea, where our friend stood waving to us, from the stern. Sadly, we eventually, dipped ensign, blasted out siren, and turned back to Colombo.

Over the years I have often wondered what had happened to him, and how he had coped with his nightmare situation. I still, think of him

The essence of a programme concerning the First Gulf War, which lasted a few days, was that every serviceman should have individual counselling, to ease their stress. Shortly afterwards, whilst chatting to a close friend who had been a Japanese Prisoner of War for more than three years, I enquired how much counselling he had received in the UK. His answer was, ‘No one single minute!’

War must have spawned so very many, similar, difficult, heartbreaking situations

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